


And Dean loved Cas

by Theeboyz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A Lamp, ABO, Adam - Freeform, Alfie - Freeform, Alpha Castiel, Ben - Freeform, Bitten werewolf Dean, F/M, M/M, Medical Procedures, Mpreg, Omega Dean, Omegaverse, Pack, The sexist south, True Mates, Werewolves, mental health
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-05-23 20:27:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14940821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theeboyz/pseuds/Theeboyz
Summary: Deans only looking for some cash to help his brother and a nice place to live.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to send me any advice or critism

Dean

He was most definitely by definition, the truest of all trailer trash. We’re talking, trashy single-wide, wife beater, and cheap walmart beer.  
Dean had gone to poor public school for years only to not achieve his low goals of going to community college. The military was always an option, but Sam still had a lot of growing up to do and he wanted to be a part of that. He had always been more of a father figure than an older brother; John was a bonafide douchebag and alcoholic.  
John Winchester was a whole different subject that he tried to avoid. The man had a bone to pick with, and owed a few hundred to, every drunk and gambler in the tri-state area. He was a gruff guy who God had most definitely not planned to be a father and didnt have a gentle bone in his body. Most memories of him included a bottle of Jack and him having an argument with someone else included.  
The two men clashed at every opportunity and neither of them could ever speak fondly of the other. Deans only reason to stick around the mostly white (trash) trailer park was Sam, luckily, his brother got the smart gene which no one could trace back. HIs mother was a stripper and anyone who knew his father agreed that the alcohol isn't the only contributor to his current IQ. So when Sam graduated, he packed up his things and was on a greyhound bus to stanford before John could get back from the liquor store.  
Sams absence in the home had only made Johns behavior worse and made Dean resent his life's choices even more. The winchesters small shred of a good family life was down the drain.  
Dean had nothing left and he didn't care anymore. One year into their stanford ordeal, Sam had refused to call Dean and Dean had debated ending it, but a good cheeseburger and two smokey and the bandits movies convinced him to maybe stick around.  
So that brought Dean to his current situation, what could best be described as a ‘shifty’ friend that he got drugs from in college, had given him a business card. He had doubted coming and put it off for a few days, but after an especially long drunk tyrade from John, he gave up. The card was vague but when he showed up to the address, it was just a regular downtown storefront.  
The name on the building was something about a spa, but he was sure that he had gotten the address correct. Clad in his nicest, slightly saggy, jeans and some t-shirt he'd had for forever, Dean strolled into the cute boutique, way out of his element. Homemade soaps and paintings adorned the walls and a few people walked about, some gave him smiley looks that made him widely uncomfortable. He had begun to doubt himself when someone tapped on his shoulder. Snapping around, he only the saw the woman that had been at the front desk, she gave him a small wave and he nodded.  
Carly, as the name tag said, held out her hand. “I’m sorry- you're new arent you? I’m going to need your card.” He was frozen for a minute and snapped out of it as he rifled through his old wallet. For a moment he thought he might've just dreamed the whole weird experience until the pale blue card fell into his hand and then onto hers. “Perfect! Now- right this way.”  
Dean hated that he could practically feel the other patrons eyes on his back as she led him to a back door. It took her a minute for the lock to open and he couldn't believe the sight in front of him. The cuteness and pastel colors of the boutique were amplified in the other room. He had no idea what was going on; why in the world would someplace that could take his organs or kill him, have a receptionist's desk and so many doors? “We’re so glad you came, I assure you that you won't regret it.” He had almost forgotten Carly was there.  
There were some other people in the room as well, most seemed to be in the side rooms though. Dean was just trying to take it all in without standing out anymore than he already felt he was. A woman at the desk handed him a clipboard with some papers and a pen attached. At Least now he could tell it was something medical, or at least something they were going to get legal consent for. The boxes were easy to read and most of the questions were not hard to figure out, he didn't have any life insurance and he didn't have any health issues that needed to be written down.  
All he was promised was a good sum of cash, that he’d send to Sam, and a decent enough place to live. There wasn't much more that a guy could ask for, and its not as if Dean had high expectations.  
The place smelled like a perfume factory and he was practically getting a headache as he sat with Carly standing over him awkwardly. He handed her the clipboard and before they could have a conversation or he could ask any questions, she brought it to the receptionist and struck up a casual conversation with her. Who was at the cash register back in the store then?  
Dean didn't like waiting for things, it reminded him of doctors who usually caused pain or just spread bad news. He didn't like having to quietly sit while elevator music played and the only people around him seemed to be employees of whatever strange business they were running was. Whenever he was in situations like this, Dean always got a little antsy and paranoid, that's also why he wasn't a criminal, pressure got to him.  
“Dean?” An older woman's voice from across the room took him out of his deep train of thought. She wore a doctors stereotypical pure white coat and had a smile and general sense to her that made Dean want to trust her, it made him uneasy.  
He quickly stood up, ready to finish whatever he had to do, she simply laughed and waved him towards her and one of the open doors. His walk was slow and uneven, even though he consensually chose to do it, it'd be weird if he wasn't afraid of what they'd do. She held the door open for him as he carefully looked over the doctor's office looking area, it looked like they designed it for children  
“Oh it's alright, if you wouldn't mind, can you sit down on that white table?” When she spoke it reminded him of his grandma, he didn't remember much about her but it was still a comforting thought. “All we have to do is talk- Does that sound alright? I’ll just be asking you some simple questions and we may have to also have physical proof of your answers. I’m Ellen by the way.” Dean nodded in agreement and sat with Ellen across from him, he was still conscious and he hasn't been cut open yet, so the business did seem fairly legitimate.  
She started off easy, letting him feel more comfortable. “Want to tell me about yourself? Age, weight, family history, basically anything that we’d need to know medically.”  
“I- uh, last time I checked I was around 5 foot, 8 inches. I’m twenty three years old and I weigh.. I’m sorry, I don't remember and we don't own our own scale so- yeah..” He thought and she looked up after writing a feel things down.  
Dr. Ellen waved a hand and nodded, “That's alright, just talk about all the stuff you are sure about; we’ll figure out the rest.” She reassured him and when back to writing a few things.  
“Okay, I got really good good vision and no allergies and I’ve never had to go to the hospital because I was sick or nothing. My dad had a bad back and his joints were not too good but that was mostly when he used to work in construction. My grandpa died of a heart attack but otherwise everybody just died natural.” He said with a sigh and began to feel a little claustrophobic just sitting still in the room.  
They sat in silence for a moment as she continued to write things down, she’d occasionally look over Dean but otherwise finished quickly. “Well that's plenty more information than some people give me; now, how about you lay back and we’ll complete the physical exam. I understand you're probably confused and stressed, but just relax, nobody here is going to hurt you.” Her words did little to comfort him as he layed back on the cold hard table with only a thing paper sheet covering it.  
He could hear things shuffling around and she put something in his hand. “It's just gym, we’ve found that it gives people something else to think about, it’ll help you relax.” Dean again, nodded and put the gum in his mouth, he didn't have any reasons not to trust her on it. He liked mint gum and it just looked like every other gum from any pack he’d ever gotten in his lifetime, no specific brand, no labels, just plain old gum.  
“Just relax Dean.” He liked Ellen, she was a nice lady. She had given him gum and she had soft hands and she reminded him of his grandma, and her voice was so soothing that it made him want to fall asleep. Actually, he figured, she probably wouldn't even mind if he did. With that, he passed out.  
o0o  
He could feel hands, hands in his hair, hands on his hands, hands on his feet. If he hadn't been slow to wake up due to his drug laced gum, normal Dean would have probably kicked and swatted them away from him. But with the nice music and low light that was hitting his slow returning vision, the soothing all over massage felt comforting.  
It took a moment for him to collect his thoughts and realize what was going on. He was in some spa type area getting his hair washed and to his fear- cut, and he was involuntarily receiving a manicure and pedicure from some other employees who were casually talking amongst themselves.  
Dean would never admit to a living soul that what they were doing was actually nice and enjoyable, but that didn't mean he was going to complain either. The man above him currently had a pair of scissors he didn't plan to mess with.  
To avoid the awkwardness of them knowing he wasn't actually not enjoying the treatment, Dean went back to pretending to be asleep and just listened. He heard one of the girls first. “They’re all just bimbos anyways; I heard this one optionally took the gum- and he was in the operating room just fifteen minutes after getting here. You’ve got to admit that that's probably a new record or something.” Operating room? What would they have operated on?  
“Oh no- this one came in in the whole sagging jeans look. It’ll take them forever to break him in, or maybe he’ll get lucky and just be one of the working ones.” A guy working on the manicure piped in quickly.  
A few of them laughed and Dean focused on trying to stay as still as possible so they wouldn’t notice him being awake. “Oh they’re not all that bad. My dad works with this guy who got his this way, he didn't even put her through any of their classes or anything.” They all made groaning or sighing noises in response.  
“Those are just the stories they tell so that people keep coming in. I bet this guy thinks he's getting himself a real winner. All the rich ones who can’t get one the natural way, have got something wrong with them.” Eventually they changed subjects and Dean lost interest, he was more confused than ever and honestly wished he would have just slept through the earlier discussion. He was tired of sitting still and playing doll, it was driving him crazy not being able to do anything.  
Luckily the process ended soon enough and he heard them walk away, opening his eyes, Dean tried to look for any obvious exits. He had no idea what was going on and he was beginning to have a slight mental breakdown in his chair. Dean winchester just need some answers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so If people wonder, Dean isn't having some weird Stockholm syndrome deal. He understands his situation and he's been though worse.  
> He's doing it because he cares about his brother and deep down, about himself.

"Dean?" He swore to god if anyone else called to him like an injured animal he wouldn't not slap somebody.  
This time, it wasn't Ellen of the staff from before that had been working on him. A man stood across the room with a fake smile and an energy to him that made Dean wildly uncomfortable. Whatever stage in this process this guy was, he wanted to get it over with.  
"Will you please join me Mr. Winchester?" Knowing he couldn't actively ignore the guy and still receive his money, he stood up and was greeted by an unpleasant surprise.  
Excuse his language, but his balls felt like they'd been hit by a baseball bat twenty times. Dean didn't know if that was supposed to be normal or not but he didn't want to be the perv that just looked. Was this place some kind of weird jacked up sperm bank? At least that wouldn't be the worst; he still did have most of his major organs he presumed.  
So Dean slowly made his way over, trying to be casual but most definitely walking differently. The pain was giving him a killer headache, a headache he hadn't been getting from the perfume smell- which didn't even seem to be present anymore.  
"We just need to dress you before you're ready to leave." The mans monotone voice made him aware of the changing room type area he was in. Dean was eager to get back into his clothes and quickly went inside and shut the door. He grabbed- not his shirt? It was some light material with pastel flowers and a blue background, he wasn't a bad guy but, any other time he would've seen the shirt, he would've called it gay for sure.  
But there was no way he was going back out there in a robe, that was way worse. Once he got a sense for the buttons, Dean was able to figure the shirt out and get into it. The underwear, which he originally were sure to be small but then did fit to his confusion, were plain and soft (way nicer than he could ever afford). Secretly, his favorite part were the pants; they were like soft, thinner khakis that breathed.  
When Dean saw himself in the mirror, he couldn't help but let out a little laugh. He would've been pretty good looking if he were one of those gay country club guys. He stood for a minute and looked over himself in confusion. What kind of place would do something involving his privates and then dress him up all fancy, but not like a stripper?  
Eventually he figured the guy was going to start bugging him to get out, so he stepped back out into the open area. Dean felt awkwardly intimidated by the guy, he couldn't put a finger on the sense but it kept getting worse. "Come on now, you can't stand here forever. He's waiting." The mans shortness made him want to snap back; but again, these people were paying him.  
Who was waiting? It seemed everyone around was in such a rush that they didn't have any time to explain to him what was going on. They made their way through the spa area again and into one last, larger room.  
It was a waiting room. Equipped with another receptionists desk and rows of chairs, some full, he made his assumption quite easily. Dean was getting slightly overwhelmed, when he came out, everyone's eyes seemed to be on him for a split second until some looked away. "Castiel Novak?" The guy from the dressing room, who had led him out, read off the name from a piece of paper.  
In the back corner, a guy looking around his age shot up. He stood for a moment, staring, before making his way towards Dean and the front desk. Was this some weird set up to human trafficking? He was fine losing a kidney but that was just too much, sure he'd signed himself off, but still!  
Instead of coming straight to him, as Dean had assumed, Castiel went to the front desk and signed some things and showed identification like he was trying to buy a gun or something. To Deans disappointment, everything went through fine and the creepy guy finally left, leaving him alone with even more of an illusive stranger.  
Castiel looked at him with a smile and seemed to be examining him as they stood; still, with a dopey smile on his face. "So- uh.. Can you tell me what I'm actually here for now?" Dean asked, breaking the silence first, and seeming to catch the other man off guard. The dark haired stranger quickly nodded and walked to the door, opening it for him.  
Castiel seemed shocked, "You weren't told any details during the process? Or are you just confused?" Why was everybody talking to him like he was a little kid!? "It's perfectly normal to-"  
"Look, we're both adults here. Now, how 'bout you have a reasonable adult conversation with me." Dean cut him off and still followed him to the car, quickly getting in the passengers seat so he could hear Castiel explain it to him.  
The man seemed shocked at his sudden response and just sat in his seat looking between Dean and his hands. "So- I might be confused here but- you signed up and went through processing without having any knowledge of what the process did or why it was what it was?" Castiel asked him seriously, but still not angry. Now Dean did feel like a dumb little kid; nobody just volunteers their life to some strange medical process with no idea of what's going to happen to them. Nobody in their right mind would ever do that, Dean hated the realization, but he solemnly nodded nonetheless.  
Castiel turned towards him in sit seat and thought for a moment. "You were promised a good sum of money and a well supported home for doing this, am I correct?" He asked and Dean nodded again, armed crossed and visibly slouched in the seat. "Well- that agency helps alphas like me find omegas in a safe consensual way."  
Deans last shred of understanding went out the window as he continued speaking. He gave Castiel his best, wtf face, and luckily he noticed before he moved on to another subject. "Many species operate on a second gender status. Werewolves happen to as well, nowadays, packs don't operate in the same barbaric nonconsensual mating traditions they used to. With most packs running higher in alphas and betas, some of us bring humans in and very rarely do they accept our offers at a relationship so we-"  
Dean cut him off again and shook his head. "You're not a werewolf, those are just monsters made up in the eighteen hundreds by some lunatics. Alphas? Betas? You're just making up stuff to confuse me aren't you?" He was visibly pissed and wanted some straight up answers for once.  
Castiel looked at him with a mix of tiredness and 'really'? "I'm not talking Teen wolf Dean, I mean real lycanthropy and I wouldn't purposely ever try to confuse you. You'll learn and understand our ways in due time; there's no need to rush anything. You've been accepted into my pack and I plan to carry out my contractual end of the agreement: a home, and the sum that will be sent to your brother. I owe you nothing more, but I choose to make you happy and show you all of the good things our pack life has to offer. On my word as alpha, I promise to give you anything you could ever need."  
        Castiel was so sincere and serious that Dean knew in any other circumstances, not that they were now, they would not have been friends. "I will fulfill my duties of helping you learn and recover from the bite, and in doing so I'll help you heal physically and mentally to the best of my ability." The weird man had still not even started the car yet and Dean was beginning to get uneasy.  
         Castiel was staring at him, analyzing him bit by bit and breaking things down, at least that's what Dean felt like was going on. He didn't need some guy to find everything wrong with him just after he practically bought him from some underground operating clinic. "Healing? What'd they do to me?" Dean asked quickly, hesitant to touch or check for himself, unsure of what he might see and/or feel.  
        Sure, his balls felt like he'd just gotten kicked by a professional soccer player, but that was pretty much all he could tell from just him own feelings internally. "Well.. To facilitate and make well sure that anyone turned in that business becomes an omega.. They take nesacery precautions such as physical changes like a slow vasectomy and the insertion of omega hormones." Castiel wasn't able to make eye contact with Dean as he spoke. For good reason too, the new omega was glaring and staring holes into him from the passengers seat. "But after your body becomes accustomed to the changes, you'll feel better than before, both mentally and physically." Castiel was hoping maybe Dean was going to settle down s bit if he heard about all of the good parts of a pack and being like them. All others who had came from the facility had eventually came around.  
Dean was silent, still furious and just just glaring down at his feet instead, but silent. Castiel took that as an invitation to start the car and start their journey to Dean's new home.  
Little did Dean know, but Castiel had been working long and hard for months to get his application accepted by the facility and to get ready for the omega. The only things that Dean were focusing on were the fact that he might be losing his balls and that something smelled like pie; he might've been a bit nicer if Castiel had just given him the pie when he had gotten in the car, instead of just driving around with it.  
The drive was completely silent until Dean was just fed up with having to listen to his own thoughts. Not that he wanted to talk to the guy who had basically bought him. Dean awkwardly reached up to turn on the radio; he fumbled with the dials and struggled to understand what did what, until Castiel spoke up.  
"What kind of music do you like?" He asked while keeping focus on the road and yet still sneaking glances at Dean. At first, Dean wanted to just be stubborn and not respond; he didn't owe this guy anything, but he did want to listen to some music.  
He finally gave up with the dials and shrugged slightly, "classic rock.." Dean was quiet but Castiel still listened and nodded at the request, quickly turning to a station Dean didn't recognize.  
"Once you get out here a little ways, the stations change. Don't worry though, there's still good radio out there. Do you have a phone at all?" Castiel asked out of the blue and tried to be casual with a little laugh, which Dean would never admit that it sounded nice to hear. "Because- you're welcome to call any loved ones if you need; I understand reception may be bad for a little while but once we get there-"  
Dean shook his head and looked out at the landscape flying past them. "I don't got one. We had a house phone but I don't know if we decided to keep paying for it." He might've not been the best off guy, but if Castiel tried to pity him or act like he was some kind of charity, Dean would be performing a vasectomy himself. "It's fine though, ain't nobody I want to call anyways."  
To make sure Castiel didn't try to strike up any more conversations or questions with him, Dean turned up the radio a bit and leaned on his side in the seat, purposely facing away from him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment !!

       The car ride was long, uncomfortable, and yet a relief for Dean. After his obvious attempts to make no interactions with Castiel, the other man finally gave up and concentrated on the driving ahead of him instead.

He had intended on giving up some organs or something; he had planned on making money off of something that at least made sense. There's no way the guy was actually serious about the whole werewolves thing, to Dean, it really sounded ridiculous. Those were just myths and legends made up for crazy stories and for tourists destinations, Castiel had talked to him as though he expected Dean would understand and accept it.

Why should he? That alpha-beta crap was so out of the blue, he would be like a live-in maid or cook or whatever Castiel wanted. Dean didn't need to be lied to or tricked into doing it for him. As long as Sammy got the money, he couldn't care less what happened to him.

There was absolutely no hope at home; being an adult man, he was able to make his own decision, and his decision was to leave. Of course, he had left a note, but realistically he knew John would never call. John was getting worse and worse and Dean had to get out, he knew he'd go mad and end up like his father if he did stick around. But Dean did finally leave.

Dean left and was seeing the world, as in as it flew past at sixty miles an hour while on his way to a (crazy) strangers home to do who knows what for who knows how long. He figured eventually he could get used to the man in the driver's seat. Castiel was fairly quiet, quite polite and was probably a guy who believed in chivalry and seemed to be looking for company.

Some kind of slave-like company but company nonetheless. If the evidence he had put together about Castiel: the nice car and his ability to pay the sum that had been promised to Sam, then the guy was pretty well off. He'd never really heard of people treating slaves well but he figured a nice bed and three hot meals was enough.

Eventually, along their Dirt road and highway journey, the roads became smaller and less frequently paved. He hoped they were nearing their destination because he couldn't wait to get out of that car, the awkward tension made it practically hard to breathe. Multiple times he had heard Castiel try to get words out, only for Dean to pretend to sleep.

He had to give him credit for trying, at least he didn't just give up. "Dean? If you're awake-" Dean internally groaned as he turned, realizing Castiel had figured it out and was not bent on a conversation. "I've told everyone in advance to avoid the house for a few days. I know I know- some people go all out with parties and all that.. But I really feel you need that time to settle in. It's completely normal to feel overwhelmed at the beginning." Who was he? Some guidance counselor that was messing with him? Why was this man so calm and casual? "I am required to make the mark within twenty-four hours though; I apologize for the inconvenience."

Deans mind was simply swimming in questions, so many he wasn't able to logically think things through for any of them. When they came to a gate, Castiel fully stopped the car and spoke to him with a calm smile. "Thank you... You truly are trying your best and I can tell. I don't plan on leaving you in the dark, but believe me, I have everything prepared to help you understand."

Dean highly doubted the short serenade but he just looked away instead of visibly disagreeing with him.

But then, with the movement of the gate opening, Dean fully noticed the gate. How nice was the place if they need a gate? -were they trying to keep things in or keep them out? Again, he was driven with little warning, down the winding road following the gate.

"We prefer our larger more secluded property out here to any other packs land in the country. We have our own water and food sources of any need.." He droned out Castiel's advertisement type speech and watched as they drove through the woods. The land looked clean and untouched by people, it was pure and peaceful. Dean had never lived out in the country or even a wooded area, so the overwhelming sense of nature was becoming a bit too much. He really hoped that the homes didn't reflect the area it was in.

Dean, once again, was greatly surprised and most definitely wrong with his previous assumptions. At the end of the winding driveway was a culdasack area of homes. Four homes stood around the circle, all vaguely different and unique in their own style and upkeep, yet all the same in their manner of cleanliness and balance of order and disorder.

The car was parked but Deans gaze didn't move away from the astounding sight in front of him. One of the houses could've fit six or seven of the single-wides he had lived in. He also doubted that any of these homes had a stripper pole like one of his used to. (His Dad had a friend named cinnamon and Dean and Sam spent a lot of time at friends houses that summer.)

Little did he know, but Castiel was looking at him the same as Dean was the pack homes. The new guest turned just in time to catch of glimpse of the enamored and proud look on Castiel's face. "I see you- enjoy the home?" He asked and opened his door, and then making his way around the car to open Deans for him. "I mean, anything can be changed, cosmetic or not... The pack would be more than willing to help with any construction changes you need."

Castiel was just acting like a weird sugar daddy kind of guy and he figured he could get used to it as long as it wasn't like charity. Dean Winchester didn't do charity.

Dean was confused as ever and simultaneously tired as ever, he didn't know how long he had been in that place and he was sure the drive had been a while. The sun was barely setting between the large trees surrounding the complex and he couldn't see anybody else around. Castiel had since walked up to the house's door to unlock it, and was calmly waiting for Dean in the doorway.

He was slightly pissed that the insane man who had claimed to be a werewolf only had to emotions or versions of himself: calm and/or defeated.

The things he had said were definitely way to far fetched, but Dean had signed up, and he was willing to do what he had to do for a nice bed and three years of Sams college tuition. So Dean made his way up some nicely paved steps to home that's stereotypically rivaled that of the Leave it to Beaver era of architecture. And Castiel, being the chivalrous douche that Dean couldn't stand, of course, held the door open for him.

"If you wouldn't mind taking your shoes off?- it just makes it easier for the cleaners." Castiel seemed so calm and casual about the fact that he had cleaners for his home. Not that Dean couldn't understand, the home was big enough that if one started cleaning the house at the beginning of the week, they'd finish in just enough time to start again. "I hope you don't mind the shoes, I had my brother choose them and- he has very interesting tastes.."

At least the man had a sense of humor, not that Dean understood most of it, but he was glad both of them understood that he wasn't one for boat shoes. "Free shoes, beggars can't be choosers."

Castiel was about to add something and Dean stopped him ahead of time by changing subjects, "You've got a really nice house. I really only need a bed though and I'm good, give me that and a baloney sandwich every other day and I've got all I need to survive." He gave him a little laugh and moved to get a good look around.

His (captor) roommate, seemed appalled at the idea and seems to be taking him very seriously. "We have much better food than that- I am not really one for traditional methods but I'd be willing to hunt for it. But we also have a supermarket half an hour south of here, I may not be the best cook around, but I have learned the basics through having to live on my own."

Dean was hardly listening, around the corner of a staircase he had found a picture display. Sure, he didn't take most of what Castiel said seriously, but the man had put a lot of effort into his whole werewolf lie.

On the wall stood one of the homey pictures displays most average families had, but his was different. Some of the pictures were usual, Castiel and people he didn't recognize posing at events like your usual family would, but others caught his eye. A few contained an older man and some were older pictures of mainly teenagers, and wolves? (Dean figured they were realistically large dogs.

He didn't notice it but Castiel had come up behind him after losing his shoes as well. "My family pictures? My sister put this together last year for a birthday present. She threatened to put in some of the pictures of my presenting ceremony if I didn't let her use my first shifting pictures." He pointed at one particularly detailed one that had to be hard to fake. It was a teenage Castiel with some unusual facial hair, and another guy was holding his mouth at the corners to reveal pointing and sharp teeth.

Dean was still very much in denial of what Castiel was showing and telling him. There was no possible way that werewolves could be real, it just didn't make sense, they couldn't have kept it quiet for that long. He just looked around and shook his head, he didn't want to believe it.

"Dean- the facility said that it is perfectly normal to have a hard time settling in.. You can feel free to ask me anything or voice your concerns at any time." He didn't want to have to listen to him baby him anymore, but Dean had no way to know what to trust or believe what Castiel was saying. After John's years of lies, he was sure Castiel must just be messing with him.

When Castiel put a hand on his shoulder, he couldn't help but flinch. Looking to casually escape from him, he made his way to the other side of the couch and set off to one side.

"I-I got a question... But if dare laugh or tell anybody, I swear to god I'm taking off." With that threat, Castiel quickly nodded and sat at the other end of the couch and looked over at him. "You said something' earlier... What's a vasectomy and please tell me it ain't' got anything to do with my- my downstairs."

The shocked look and paleness on Castiel's face made him uneasy, "Well- not exactly... You are still perfectly masculine and no less of man for losing your ability to procreate. A-a vasectomy is where they stop the flow of your reproductive fluids... But-" Castiel had no chance to continue because Dean had proceeded to throw the lamp from the end table at him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to comment ideas or critisism.

Dean was rightfully pissed; most any man would be just at least a little upset if you said you'd messed with his junk.

He felt rightfully pissed enough to throw the closest hard object he had, at Castiels head. He had done a lot of ball related sports over the years, there was no back up plan if he missed. 

So while Castiel blabbered on about litteraly taking away his ability to have a family, Dean calmly and quickly unplugged the mundane lamp from the wall. In one fluid motion, he swung the lamp directly at Castiels face. It felt really good at first. 

The thin frame of the lamp cracked and the light bulb fell out on the floor, breaking into the smallest pieces possible, and the base of it just hooked Castiel right in the jaw. He felt proud of himself, until the victim of his lamp attack, dropped said lamp, and looked over at him. 

Calm and controlled Castiel looked down right boiling mad. His brow was furrowed and the hand he wasn't using wipe away his now bloody nose, was clutching the couch like his life depended on it. 

They were locked in a staring contest that Dean was hating, he kept trying to look away, but every time he looked back- Castiel was stilling staring at him. When it looked like he was finally going to crack, he just got up and walked away. He went to the other side of the house until Dean couldn't see him anymore, and just had to imagine what was going on. He really didn't want the guy to kill him, he didn't want to die in some strange house with no good balls and with the thought in his head that maybe Castiel was telling the truth about the whole werewolf thing. He didn't want to believe it, but maybe it was just best.

Obviously his last attempt to fight Castiel didn't work. He just walked away, leaving Dean to his own wits and an empty stomach. But, then again, nothing was actually keeping him there. The police would never see it as kidnapping if he just sat there and waited. The front door was less than fifteen steps away, he could make a run for it.

Everyone who had ever met him knew he ran from everything, never getting committed or sticking with something long enough to get attached to it. And Dean wasn't one to try and change any old habits or his. 

He slowly got up from the couch, making sure to listen for any noises, nothing, he was in the clear. Dean opened the door and ran, ran as hard and as fast as he could down the road going out of the place, he was too scared to even dare trying to cut through the woods just to hide from them. 

He didn't really know why he was running, but he did know that something about that place, with Castiel, gave his gut this odd feeling that he wanted to run away as quick as he could. Dean never was some all star athlete, but he was doing his best to have his legs carry him as fast as he needed. 

The moon had fully set in and it's once a month rare brightness lit the way for Dean to begin walking instead. He didn't remember exactly which way they had come from, but he did remember some specific monuments. Those included stuff as simple as a house painted the ugliest shade of orange, all the way to a car in the ditch that had easily been there more than a few years. He didn't see any gas stations or simply anywhere inhabited by people who wouldn't call the police on him. It had to be late, he couldn't just start knocking on people's doors. 

Finally, after what he was sure had been at least a few hours into the dark very early morning, he felt he just needed a break. There was a big willow tree to the right side of the road he was currently on. Dean leaned himself again the base of the tree and curled up, trying to keep himself warm in the cool summer night.

The noises of nature and the soft grass near the tree mixed with his overwhelming exhausted, was enough to have him fast asleep in minutes.

OoO

Dean couldn't even remember falling asleep- but he was fairly sure it wasn't as comfortable as he currently was, and now he had a pillow even. 

His eyes were blurry but he could still tell what he was still able to tell when he was looking at. The sky was a lot lighter than before, the moon was finally going down and the sun peaked from the side creating a mirage of new colors in the clouds. 

In any other circumstances it would've been beautiful and memorable, but then his pillow moved, and it's possible but not that he'd admit it, he shrieked a little bit. 

Dean moved to a sitting upright position as fast as he possibly could, and trying to get his bearings in the fleeting darkness. Something mailable and soft was curled around him. He crossed his fingers that it wasn't a bear, and luckily it wasn't furry at all; it was human skin. Human skin on a regular living and breathing human body. What the f!ck was going on?! 

It seemed to be awake now as well, moving slightly and more frequently around him until it was flush with his left side. It had to be a dream, nothing else made sense, he wasn't by the willow tree, and Dean knew he didn't sleep walk. 

The strangers breathing eventually picked up and they shot to up to a sitting up position. The nervousness coming off their demeanor almost matched him. Maybe it wouldn't notice him? Maybe it would just leave him and walk away? 

To his dismay, after it made a 360 degree check around for its surroundings, it looked right down at him, with large, scared, blue eyes.

It was Castiel, his lamp throwing victim, staring down at Dean like he thought he was dead or something. Neither of them said anything for a moment, Dean was just waiting for him to explain. The sun was beginning to rise more and cast more light into their situation. 

While looking up at Castiel, Dean squinted, noticing the "stranger" seemed dirty, and his hair was sticking up more than normal, a few leaves even adorning it. Castiel was also stark naked and the two were still sitting directly next to each other. 

When it seemed as though he wasn't going to get a peep out of Castiel, he finally pushed himself back a bit and watched him carefully. "Care to explain..?" He was tired and his voice was raspy from his little, but peaceful sleep. Castiel seemed on edge, nervously looking around for a chance to flee the situation with him. He also seemed to be avoiding eye contact as best as he possibly could, just staring at his next instead. "Come on- I think I deserve some answers. You could at least look at me ya' know."

Dean was well aware that he through a lamp at the guy, but still! He deserved answers if the guy got his tubes tied and still wants him to stick around. But Castiel only stared at him in a sort of dismay and shock combination. 

"I-I am very sorry.." The quietness and meekness of his voice, (coming from such a big guy) surprised him, and it honestly seemed genuine to Dean. "I promise to help you and I apologize and-"

He felt awkward doing so, but Dean put a hand out on his shoulder, partially to help himself stand up and partially to stop Castiel from talking and confusing him even more. 

Once he got his footing, Dean stood up and looked around, he could see non-natural light coming from the distance. "Believe me- I've got my fair share of questions. But I really want some clean clothes and I've got to use your bathroom. So once I take care of that- you owe me some explaining." He began walking towards his destination and simply hoped that he would follow after him. 

Sure enough, the soft sound of feet padding across leaves began and Dean felt a little safer and reassured. 

Castiel was something he didn't understand, but Dean did understand the one hundred and fifty thousand dollars that was going to Sam. And he'd sure figure out Castiel if that meant a large sum of cash. 

A weird naked man who called himself a werewolf was well worth putting up with for that reward. The walk fairly close, maybe Castiel just walked in his sleep? (Walked miles and miles and that totally made sense) Maybe Castiel was just trying to bring him home in his sleep. But the guy was really dirty and that one just went right over his head. 

When they got back to Castiels home, luckily the house was unlocked, seeing as the houses owner couldn't have keys since he currently didn't have any pants to begin with. The two were quiet, Dean didn't want to feel obligated to apologize for throwing the lamp and Castiel found it best to not tell Dean about the mating bite he was sporting, it just seemed all for the best. 

Castiel pointed him towards the upstairs bathroom and made his way towards the one on the main floor. 

After a long steady examination of parts of him that were a little different than before he whole ordeal, he was finally able to use the bathroom and wash his hands like usual. He noticed some dirt on his arms and neck and went to wash it off with a towel hanging on a rack near the sink. His arms washed off fine but when he went to wipe off the neck, it burned and the rang came away with some blood and dirt. Dean carefully examined the stinging mark. He was f!cking bitten! Don't get him wrong, he didn't believe the werewolf thing, but Castiel was naked and he had a bite mark that needed to be explained.

By the time he was calm enough to open the door to go and find Castiel, he was still feeling like throwing another lamp. Dean could hear the water running and wasn't able to find the bathroom, that was until he found the trail of dirty footprints, (that was sure going to have a tough time getting out of the carpet) and followed it around the house and downstairs to where he made a pretty good assumption that that was the bathroom. 

The water was running but Dean barged in and slammed on the shower door. He had already had to see Castiel naked, nothing had really changed except for the fact that now he was actually decently clean. "I need answers and a beer and I'll only accept one with the other!" He was hardly shouting but it was mostly to just get his attention.

He had to stand awkwardly against the far bathroom wall until the water finally shut off. The bathroom itself was fancy and well decorated like the rest of the home, the whole place made him feel disoriented and not right, like he didn't belong. It seemed like a showroom that Castiel just lived in. 

Speaking of Castiel, the suspicious and now clean man had covered himself with a towel and now wouldn't even look up at Dean. "Mind explaining why something bit me while I was asleep last night?" 

Dean was given a 'really?' Look of sarcasm and Castiel just began to get dressed in a new set of clothes he had folded and sitting on the counter of the sink. "Fine- be all stoic and don't talk to me then. You can only lie to me for so long. I deserve to know dude. I'm not buying that whole w-werewolf lie anymore!" 

Castiel just continued to get dressed and let Dean rant out his frustration until he found he was suitably dressed. Dean watched him expectantly and stood his ground as he stared slightly up at him. "You're-" 

Dean wasn't cut off by a lamp, but rather by Castiel kissing him, hard.


	5. NOT AN UPDATE

Hey! Sorry, but two announcements. 

\- I do not do my own smut, if you write some for my current fic, send it to me! I'd be glad to read it.

\- I have things going on in terms of summer vacation and it might be a few more days or more until I can publish a new chapter. 

Thx for the support! Comment questions, concerns, or just to talk abt my fic!


	6. ALSO NOT, sorry

Hey guys!   
So sorry, I'm just tired, currently in a rut for motivation, and ideas just won't come to me.   
Mind helping?  
Sorry for the wait!


End file.
